Page 11 of Wicked Deceit
“Oh, no,” my mother gasps, jumping up to grab a bucket from my bedside. As soon as it’s under my mouth, I spew bile everywhere, choking on the water I had taken in.
Seger gently helps me sit up, holding back my hair. His hand rubs up and down my back gently, avoiding the painful spots. He helps me through a few more heaves, and when it’s done, he grabs a Kleenex and wipes my lips. Mom walks across the room, discarding my vomit, and stands in the bathroom for a minute, leaving Seger and me to ourselves.
“I’m so sorry, Angel. This is so fucked up,” he rasps, helping me settle back onto the bed. He fluffs my pillow, swallowing hard when he meets my eyes.
“They did this,” I whisper, letting his warmth wrap around me in a gentle hug. His arm wraps around my shoulder, nose in my hair.
“I know they fucking did. They are going to pay for what they did to you. I promise you, and we will find the answers we need,” he mumbles into my neck, carefully squeezing his arms around my body.
“Sunshine.” My body jumps at the sound of Chase’s broken whisper from the doorway.
I swallow hard, squinting to take in his haggard appearance. Every piece of clothing on his body is riddled with wrinkles and food stains. His blonde hair sticks up in every direction, looking greasy and unkempt. His eyes crinkle when he stares at me, hope filling his eyes at the sight of me sitting up and talking.
“Chase,” I murmur desperately, reaching my good hand for him while clinging to Seger. I need them all surrounding me before I go insane with all the craziness running through my brain.
Chase stands frozen in the doorway, eyes gliding up and down my body. His brows furrow, and he takes a step forward, revealing the other two frozen figures standing behind him. Their eyes meet mine and drink down my body, checking to see if I’m really awake or not. Standing stock still, they don’t move a muscle.
Zepp’s sad eyes meet mine, glancing away quickly. I lick my lips when my eyes scan him, just like he had done mine. Similar bruises and wounds line his body, starting where his seatbelt had dug into his shoulder and clavicle to the bruises lining his cheekbone and below his eye. He shutters with nerves, and in a way that is so unlike himself, he fiddles with his fingers and avoids my eyes. Gone is the confident man I have grown to love and trust. Replaced by a man so unsure of himself, he let Carter step around him and take his place.
Carter stands stoic, blocking Zepp out completely. He shoves his hands into his pockets, staring me over with no expression lining his face. When his eyes connect with mine, a fire brews in the depths of his soul. It’s promising me swift retribution against the people who did this to me.
Finally, Carter breaks free from Zepp and Chase, making his way across the room with determination. Scowling, he stands beside Seger, who raises a brow at me, and then smirks. Seger steps aside with a huff, letting Carter hover above me with the intensity of a fucking madman. I swallow hard when a vibrating growl erupts from his chest. He takes me gently into his arms and pushes his forehead against mine. Warm breaths brush over my nose and down my cheeks when he sucks in my scent and squeezes me gently. I ignore the pain, reminding my aching body that I was in a car crash, but I can’t bring myself to care. The pain registers, almost blinding me with its intensity, but his touch grounds me to the spot. I could happily die here in his arms. Chase and Zepp slowly trickle in, coming to my bedside with wide eyes.
“Don’t you ever fucking do that again; you fucking hear me?” Carter says, squeezing his arms around me tighter. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that,” he breathes heavily into my neck, and I swear a tear hits my skin, disappearing into my hospital gown.
“I promise,” I murmur through the tears pooling in my eyes. “I promise I’ll never leave you.” And I do. I mentally swear to myself and my boys that I’ll never leave them. Not like this, and not now. Maybe when I’m eighty, and my body is done dealing with these four idiots daily, but not right now.
“I’m going to step out for a minute and speak with your doctor,” my mother says from beyond, near the doorway, but Carter squeezes me harder, not letting me go.
“Okay,” I say in a muffled voice, waving my good hand at her.
Carter reluctantly pulls away, narrowing his eyes at me again. “Never fucking again,” he snarls, brushing his lips against mine in a gentle but meaningful kiss. “Never again,” Carter says against my lips, forcing his tongue into my mouth. He groans, overtaking me in such a passionate kiss I forget where I am. He sucks the soul from my body until I remember that I just vomited my guts out. If my tongue tastes like day-old lasagna mixed with bile, he doesn’t pull back. His tongue swirls with mine in a possessive manner, leaving everyone in a hundred-mile vicinity with the knowledge I am his.
“Jesus, man, you’re hogging our girl!” Chase whines, pulling my eyes to him. He gives me a tight smile, forcing Carter off my body with a shove.
Carter stumbles back and rights himself, squaring his shoulders. A deep snarl emanates from his throat, and he looks like he’s two seconds away from peeing on me. Jesus. Talk about a protective asshole marking his territory when, in reality, it’s all their territory. But I really hope they don’t all pee on me. Double checking, I make sure he’s not pulling out his massive dong. And nope! Thank fuck. The last thing I need is a wet hospital gown.
“Grumpy,” I mumble when he takes a step toward Chase, cracking his knuckles. Maybe they need to fight it out one day and learn to get along, but today is not the day. Especially not here. “We need to get you guys a get-along t-shirt,” I hum, thinking aloud and then laughing, imagining their grumpy faces when I force an oversized shirt over their heads and force them to do everything together. Go to the bathroom. Play football. The possibilities are endless, and they’d hate every second of it. If they can share in the bedroom, then they can share a t-shirt—simple logic.
“Focus, Angel. You’re giggling at nothing,” Seger says with an amused grin, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I swear my eyes cross when I force myself to focus on his smiling face.
“Is it the pain meds?” Chase asks with his eyebrows into his hairline. He nods then, looking over my doped-up face. “Yeah, it definitely has to be the pain meds. You good, Sunshine?” He snorts when he asks, laughing when I stick my tongue out at him.
Carter grunts and turns to me, pointing his fingers in my face. If he’s not careful, I’ll bite it off. “Never fucking again,” he growls and then storms away with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Yeah, never again,” I mutter, mocking his grumpy, deep voice. Instantly, I regret the moment I roll my eyes and wince when the pain in my entire body hits me.
“See, you selfish prick, you hurt her,” Chase says with a frown, pressing his lips onto my forehead. “I love you, My Sunshine,” he murmurs against my head. “Please don’t scare us like that again. I know you couldn’t help it, but I’ve had to babysit two grumpy dicks, and a third who is drowning in guilt.” Setting his forehead against mine, he gazes deep into my eyes.
“Sorry about that,” I whisper, caressing the tension from his face with my good hand. I run my fingers through his greasy hair and dig my nails into his scalp until all the tension in his body leaves him at once, and he sighs in satisfaction.
“I’ve missed you a lot, Sunshine. I hope we can get you out of here soon,” Chase whispers, lightly brushing his lips against mine again. He pulls back, looking over to Zepp, who stands back, still fiddling with his fingers. “I’ve told him over and over again, Sunshine. But he won’t believe me.” Chase claps Zepp on the shoulder, shoving him toward the bed, where he hovers just above me, avoiding my eyes once again.
“I’m sorry, Baby Girl.” Zepp swallows hard, taking another step back. His swollen eyes cast down, counting the dots on the floor like they’re the best thing he’s ever seen.
Seger sighs from right behind him, forcing Zepp to stay where he is. He shakes his head, grimacing at his brother. “I’ve tried to fucking tell him it’s not his fault,” Seger says softly, putting his hand on Zepp’s shoulder.
“We’ve all fucking told him repeatedly, but he’s such a bleeding-heart pussy, he won’t hear our words. So, fucking tell him, Sweetheart, before I throw him over a cliff for his pouting,” Carter growls from the windowsill, not bothering to look over at us. Instead, he keeps his eyes on the skyline outside.
